Time of Hope
by Anvis
Summary: Electronic tracking system was activated with protective and offensive arsenals, the first nuclear explosions thundered. There was a chain reaction, it was impossible to tell where the death rockets would fly. In the conflict major powers entered. As the nuclear war started the same way it ended by leaving a wasteland. Note: Not from manga world.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors note:**

**Hello Everyone. I just wanted to say that I could not get this idea out of my head for a while now. A lot of college work piled up and I did not have a chance to work on my main story. Throughout all my struggles this came to life. It has nothing to do with the manga from Naruto. I just like the character. This fanfic is going to most likely be 4 chapters long. Definitely not more than that. So hopefully enjoy. If everything goes well it will be done in less than three weeks. **

**Time of Hope - Chapter 1**

God, if you look for problems you can't find any. If you don't, they somehow find you. A Stalker, a pro, lost in the desert. And in what a fashionable way! Out of all the equipment there is an old, worn rifle with a nice name to it, "Screw Crock" with a half-empty clip and water for two days, and a trusty Makarov, but it is not a weapon against if "Corsairs" attacked, and one "ancient" PCD.

And everything was starting with such a nice note. I have found near an old mine a half buried in sand military truck. Well armored, already rusted in places, untouched... mostly. Without thinking twice, threw all of that little thing that I dragged with me from scavenge ring (by the way, all the small stuff was at least worth 500 coins). I was easily able to get in, I was lucky: the door was torn from its hinges and lay in the sand nearby. Inside, it was as dark as a tomb, and the sand piled up over time. Taking out a flashlight, I looked around quickly. There was no limit to my surprise, I was expecting to see some sort of command level crossing point or a weapons. At the worst medicines for wounded soldiers, but damn it, why was there scientific equipment - I'll never know. But most of all I was struck by a little rusty robot that was focused more on archaeological excavations. Hmm... what a case. Not every scientific expedition could afford such a luxury. I've heard something about these robots, but I saw one for the first time. It was said to be very accurate working equipment, and almost never broke. I can only imagine how much coins I could get for this thing. Oh, dreams, dreams. Pointing the flashlight a little further into the corner, I saw something interesting: a skeleton of a soldier. He sat himself quietly there and nobody touched him the devil knows for how many years. Without touching I examined him. Hmm, nothing special: almost anything that could be salvaged gone bad. Suddenly, near the skeleton something flickered. I flashed and I saw... The most common PCD. That's interesting. I picked it up, looked to turn it. By clicking the power button, to my surprise, I heard music start playing which signified the start of the portable. Booting, the PCD happily invited me to enter a password. Ha, the good days, they were actually able to create something decent. Suddenly there was the sound of a near engine. Clutching my rifle, I looked out. What I saw did not inspire me in any way. Not far from my truck that I found was a car with soldiers, all wearing the "Typhon" with "Devastators" ready in their hands. They even had a couple of long-range suppressors on. One word, horror, not a weapon. A total of nine people. If these guys just came to ask for directions to the nearest drinking establishment, than I'm Little Red Riding Hood. Heh, it feels like my tombstone would be put here with a sign: "Here lies a modest Stalker, Naruto, he just happened to be at the wrong time in the wrong place." That is if there will be something left to bury. My "Desert" can withstand a bullet. Well, if I'm lucky, even a large-caliber gun shot, but certainly not a blaster.

Meanwhile, the soldiers (and that is exactly what they looked like) spread out and took the truck in to a semi-circle. Shooting was pointless, to run even more pointless. They would probably shoot, and then ask who I was and what I was doing here. The problem was also that they did not even have marks of any organization on their armor, and it pointed to the fact that these "brave" guys do not want to get in to the spotlight. Things were really bad.

- Hey, stand where you are, you're in my crosshairs. The first person to move will get a "Suppressor" through their head. - _Well, what else could I do? Bluffing was the way. I had a good position, I saw everything. And here they are, just standing, plus it didn't seem like they noticed me._

- Calm down. We will not harm you, just show yourself so that I could see you. - One of the "Typhon's" came out a little ahead. It seems like he was the one in charge.

- Ha, well, I was definitely not born yesterday! You will probably shoot me if the circumstances change. - _What the hell, I'm feel myself comfortable here while sitting still. Would be even better if I did have the mentioned earlier "Suppressor". Definitely not my day._

- I give you my word of Captain Tuck, that none of the soldiers here will shoot - _an entertaining guy, never actually heard of the captain before._

- Thank you, but I'm fine here – _damn it, I would like to know how to get out of here._

- Hey kid, I just need to give only one order, and even if you would have optic sights with your "Suppressor", it will not save you, so do not suffer with your delusions and climb out. This is our truck, and everything inside belongs to us.

- By our, you mean who's? – _Oh man, who was pulling my tongue? Why was I asking too many questions? Anyone who knows a lot, does not live long. I sank in to the sand, as low as possible, covering my head with my hands. Now they will definitely tear everything down._

- Ready... Aaaaahhh! What the...- _Indiscriminate firing was heard. I raised my head and saw the soldiers running and firing randomly in the air into targets only visible to them, captain Tuck was rolling on the ground, screaming and beating himself with his as if trying to knock some invisible fire off - was this some sort of magic tricks? Oh man, not good. Hell, and I wouldn't even be able to move from here. The rays from the devastator flashed overhead. One of the beams hit the main body of the truck, and then the metal instantly hissed and started melting. In the place of the shot was an accurate through- hole. What would have happened to my "Desert"?_

Suddenly I heard an explosion. After fifteen seconds all went quiet. I waited another half a minute and looked up. The truck in which the soldiers come, was burning. Definitely a nice spark. Around lay the pieces from the same truck. The "Typhon's" and Tuck just laid there and did not move. What was it? I slowly began to get up and noticing movement with the edge of my eye. Turning my head, I noticed that to my "shelter" from the abandoned mine "Stiches" were approaching, and… Oh my god. Not one or two, but twelve at once. I took aim at the largest one of them and was stunned. At the head of each Stitch was a tattoo. Only one stitch had tattoos on his head: a "Stitch" - psionic. Not that. That's why Tuck struggled in agony, which is why the soldiers fired into the void: its psionic. No armor, but the only most feature-rich, will hold a psionic attack. These "comrades" are too far away from me and cant see me... But to be honest, I don't even know that. I never had an encounter with these creatures, and even the other people I knew, and certainly not seen them before. But never have I seen so many of them. Maybe, just maybe it will pass?

The "Stitches" stopped, as if on a cue. One of them came forward five meters, and looked in my direction. At that moment, I felt that someone was beginning to break into my mind, dominating and subjecting me. Oh, no! You're trying to mug the wrong person! Frantically, in the last effort brought the crosshairs of sniper scope to the head of the psionic and shot. My consciousness was ready to explode and collapse into madness with fragments never being able to recover. I got it. Damn it, got it! Showering my helmet with heat, just to the left of me a small fire broke loose. Wow, but what is it going on today. Did my bone friend with a scythe thought that today I have to die? I have to get out of here, or Ill jus be cooked in my own "Desert". I breathed in some more warm air again: now the fire flashed right in front of me. A little bit more and it would cover me. Jumping up, I gave such a run that my lungs almost popped out. On the run yet, for some reason I got visited with a thought of being sorry that almost all remained there, including most of my equipment.

That's how I found myself deep in the silent desert. Fortunately, the "Stitches" did not pursue me, but to my horror, I did not know where I was, as I ran up hill and down dale. And now here I lay, resting, watching the scorching sun and thinking about eternity...

I think I dozed off. Must have dozed off: my side was kicked unceremoniously by someone.

- You alive man? What cha laying down for? Quite the heat here "Stalker", did your brain melt in the process? You would have to sleep screener, so for sure - _came a voice from somewhere above._

- Alive. Who are you? - _I opened my eyes, and saw some young guy 20 years old, light armor. Probably a scout... Alright then._

- I'm with the spirits. Heard of them? - _The guy removed the gauss gun. Well, thank god while I was sleepy I did not grab my gun – I didn't see the guy's gun._

- I got lost. Is there any New Town here somewhere? - _I made the most peace-loving face as a tramp is capable of making in a "Desert" and a Makarov._

- "Stalker", what's wrong with you? No, I have heard that after being in the desert without anything you get a tad crazy, but like this? - _The guy shook his head, then continued_. - You made a decent hook. Five hours away, if you will not be dragging yourself. In general, I am going there too, so we will go together if you want.

- Yes, I don't really mind – he's a not "Corsair", and thanks for that. Spirits had a good reputation all in all, they don't throw words without thinking, especially if they did not shoot you on sight.

- Ok than. Oh and did you hear that the Duke and his boys were seen again near the town three days ago? - _The Duke? Damn it. The vilest "Corsair", which I heard of. Selected and plundered all that he could find. And all that he could not (read, nailed down), he would tear off with a mount._

- No, I was in a weekly raid - _talking about the Duke, without thinking, I blurted out the truth._

- Oh... where's your cargo than? - _The boy looked at me incredulously._

- Had to throw it away in the process. Hey, man, don't ask too many questions. Ok? The less you know the tighter you sleep.

The guy did not say anything. Probably offended. But somehow I was not thinking about this. I looked at my trophy - a PCD. There was still the screen shining with a login and password entry option. I turned it off and put it in the inside pocket under the armor, and then we went in the direction of the city.

Apparently, the skeleton decided that I had enough for today and gave us a gift, he presented us with a people free pass to the city itself. Passing between one of the most ancient, abandoned mines, I saw a young teenage romp playing with small rats. The memory of memories surfaced: the first hike on vacant lots, on the first record, the first meeting in the city with a "Corsair", Roland (as it actually mattered how I got away from him, don't really remember, it was a long time ago). My memories interrupted by barking and gauss rifle shot in the distance. They were all little things. Especially after today. I badly wanted a drink, but a little idea in my head was born.

Saying goodbye to the guy near the entrance to the city, telling him goodbye and also mentioning that if he need a "Stalker" he can look me up in the pub "Zipper", I hurried to the old bunker. There lived an old friend of mine - a former "Engineer", now retired, a huckster - Murmur.

- Hey, Murmur. There's a request I have for you -_ just by going into a tiny room, littered with, in addition, all e- nonsense (including mini turret class "guardian" on the ceiling), I greeted him. On a shelf lay an old prototype turret repairman, or so it seemed to me? In my opinion I've seen this somewhere._

- Ha, you're never here to visit an old man. All of the time it's a request. - _The old man leaned back in his chair rather, removing his glasses, looked me in the eye._ - What have you got?

- In general, here. - _I held out the PCD._

- So. Hmmmm. Yep. Well, now wait a minute here. I'll see if my old memory can do something with it, sit down, beers in the fridge. Pour yourself some. I'll be done quickly. - _With these words the old man got up and walked briskly into the next room, the entrance to which is almost impossible to see because of the prevailing gloom and abundance of all sorts of boxes with items._

Grabbing the first beer, I sat in a comfortable old chair and waited while enjoying life. Looking around the room of Murmur, where, however, there was nothing but the cyber stuff and different mechanisms, I noticed the robot. He was off. On the exterior he was as good as new, already shone. For a while I looked with interest at this thing. I was always interested in these things, and never understood how these machines worked. Suddenly, the robot activated, the sensors ran in different directions, until they found me. My heart skipped a beat... Just thinking of the first meeting with the turret - trap... At the same time the robot was powered down, and I calmed down.

Well, to hell with it, this "Stalker" job - suddenly I thought. - I should just start working for Murmur as a truck loader, the work is not so hot, but life is not at a constant risk. Wait, what am I saying? Since when did a seasoned "Stalker" think of a quiet and cozy cottage by the river? Ha, I'm not so much of a wreck, to be visited by such thoughts.

- Ok, in general son. I have two news for you. Good and bad. Which one first?

- Start with the good one - _I waved the old man._

- In general, the information that is in the PCD, is worth millions. Do you understand? Millions! - _The old man shook the PCD in front of my nose. The numbers are impressive... very impressive._

- What's the bad news? - _I asked._

- With information like this people do not tend to live long…

**Word Explanation:**

**PCD – Portable Computer Device**

**Corsair - Many centuries ago, the corsairs were storming of the seas. In our time, they - Shadow of Terror for the inhabitants of wastelands and mines. Beautiful men, fine owning all kinds of weapons and able to quickly leave the battlefield in the event of an unexpected danger. In addition, they are perfectly able to avoid attacks of monsters in the mines, which makes them excellent hunters prospectors. If you like robbery and murder, if you like the excitement of hunting, the best profession to be found.**

**Stalker - Some call them the Romantics, the other hermits, some - vagrants. And probably all of them is right in his own right. After all, to explore the wastelands requires a certain frame of mind and character. Stalkers are excellent in commanding of light and medium small arms. Not foreign to them are skills of medicine. In this case, the wastes they move much faster than the representatives of any other class. Unlike the miners, stalkers do not dig in the mines, they prey on the surface, attacking monsters. Because of the frequent transitions over long distances, they are forced to use backpacks with reduced volume.**

**Spirits – One of the best known guilds in the world. They poses skills and are definitely not a force to mess with.**

**Engineer - This is a scientific elite of the world. Their weapons are technical knowledge and high-tech equipment. They know how to build fortifications, able to determine the condition of the building and ownership. In addition, they have the skills and mining superbly treated with electronics, medicines and energy weapons. Other weapons do not enjoy their popularity. Also, sometimes the engineer can be "paralyzed" in battle because of the uncertainty caused by the lack of combat experience.**

**Desert – The desire to always exceed the enemy was driven scientific progress in the field of military technology. Weapons became more and more powerful, and, consequently, increased requirements for armor. So there was a set of Desert. This armor is classified as a "full defense", that is, roughly speaking, is an armored suit. Tightness of the joints almost completely blocks the effects of environmental factors, and titanium-molybdenum alloy virtually impenetrable to most types of weapons.**

**Typhon - Armor of the new generation. Its origin is still unknown, as it samples were found in the remains of military robots. Most likely, this armor secret laboratory has developed the post-war period, and after the attack of the robots for some reason took away prototypes. This armor is ideal for a sniper. Built-in sensors, filters and mathematical processor greatest ease of aiming weapons and the introduction of amendments to the distance and weather conditions, environmental factors, and titanium-molybdenum alloy virtually impenetrable to most types of weapons.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Authors note:**

**Just wanted to thank MrGoodyTwoShoes to pointing out something from the first chapter which I will correct. Other than that enjoy fellas ;)**

"Now sit down and listen. Listen carefully, all the questions will be asked later. Here!" - The old man again (for the umpteenth time) shook the PCD – "Are coordinates are silos of nuclear missiles and the adjacent base. Moreover, quite a long list of passwords to an underground room is also available. This refuge was specifically hidden in case of a nuclear war, very much and so many years ago for some government or military superpower. It reads literally, "place of a winner." - The old man paused and sat down wearily in his old, worn with time but favorite chair. The PCD he scornfully through on the table covered with old drawings of mines.

"I do not know. How could this be possible? After the war there weren't any nuclear weapons left. Damn..." - I said with feeling.

The old man spoke in a whisper, I could barely distinguish his words.

"Look, I certainly do not insist. But I have a proposal for you" - Murmur licked his lips nervously. – "If any of the clans or corporations now existing would be aware of the existence of this base. It will put the whole world to its knees. Do you understand me? All the bloody wars that are underway, including the current - nothing is compared to those victims, if at least one more nuclear missiles will fall on this land." - _I swallowed audibly. If this is true, then the key to the PCD I found was a gates to hell._

"Murmur…" - I nervously glanced at still open entrance to the lair of an old man – "I have to tell you something. I did pretty much walk out of deaths clutches with that PCD."

"Tell me everything." - _He said curtly, and under the table at some tumblers clicked. The hopper quite quickly closed with a 16 centimeter sheet steel, proudly referred to as the door. Flick of another switch that is passed into the turret and embattled, bristling his four rapid-fire machine gun._

I briefly described to him my adventures with the PCD, as I found it proudly and how proudly, throwing everything in the world, thinking about how cool I looked and how I escaped the Stiches psionics. The old man listened attentively without interrupting. Only time he allowed himself to frown when I described the soldiers that came out of the truck.

"It's clear. You did the right thing that you came to me. Naruto, my boy, it means that the truck was found. No need to wonder why not, sooner or later, but right now the truck was found by these... hmm ... unknown, but I suppose they knew why they were there. And that reason is now next to you on my desk."

"Do you think that someone is aware of this thing?" _- I closed my eyes wearily, trying to gather thoughts that were running loose. Millions smoothly melted right before my eyes. Or is it colored circles of fatigue?_

"Exactly. Listen to me... I want you to destroy this base" _- I immediately opened my eyes and stared at Murmur. Did he completely fall off the rails?_

"You have no temperature right? Or did you get a bug in your head from a rat? I have an antidote in my stack, I can share you know."

The old man grimaced as if he had a toothache.

"Listen to me, and then ask. Your every decision will change the world. I am old, and I somehow don't care, but look at the world. People and the planet in particular, just recovered from those terrible times. Now there is no terrible radiation, and children can play in the streets again. The civilization. Laws. Dark times are coming to an end. Tell me, are you ready to re-send all to the abyss of destruction? Oh, yes! If you're lucky, you even get those millions of coins. But tell me, what you are going to do with them in the wilderness of radiation that would become reality. Not the distant past, but here and now?" - The old man paused for a breath, and then added: "I'll pay for this job."

I chuckled, offering him to start bidding.

"Say, 150,000 coins? Plus all costs of the expedition I take on myself," - _hell, this guy before retiring was working in his youth as a moonlighting devil – tempering with everything. But it will be dangerous. However, I'm already ears deep in this mess, aren't I?_

"I will not go alone." – _The old guy nodded, realizing he had me hooked on my greed._

"Just a little bit, two or four people. The less people know, the better. They, too, will receive the same amount." - _The old man got up, went to the refrigerator and took a beer._

"Two questions. First: how much money do you have? And the second question: can we, maybe, stop the expedition? Pay me some money for the PCD, and then destroy it to smithereens, eh?"

The old man smiled and then laughed madly.

"I will answer the second question first. The problem is not the PCD, but the existence of the database itself. The PCD is only key to the lock. But who said that the lock cannot be vandalized or wreck? You know? No matter how near or far is the base. The key is found, our happiness that it got to you in hands, and not to them" - the old man waved his hand vaguely in the direction – "so who gives a guarantee that the base will not be found out by accident? Ready to give head to bet that these guys are serious with Typhon is not the first day, looking for the base and the key to it. And about the money: I was young once." – The old man squinted slyly.

"Okay, persuaded me. Transfer it into account, as I gather the team, right?" _- I closed my eyes again, the left hand massaging my nose. From two to four people. Who can you trust? Who? In my mind a list of names was forming. I stopped at five names. Uncle, Elephant, Doc, Speedy and Owl._

"Well, my boy. In general, gather the team and come back. But do it as quickly as possible. I had a premonition. And you know, I have a hunch that never failed." _- Yes, it is, if he did not trust his apprehension, he would already be feeding the worms._

When they opened the door and I went out on the street it was quite dark. A gust of hot wind from the desert, carrying sand to the city. I put on my helmet and went to one tavern called "Ghoul". It had a reputation of a bad place. However, here was a chance to the guys I needed.

In the city I was uncomfortable. Even at this time in the muddy streets scurrying petty thieves (though an armed stalker, especially in a suit, no one would dare), a lot of onlookers, petty traders, and God knows what a motley crowd. Too noisy. Too many people. Lots and lots of extra sounds. Here in this mild discomfort I got to the bar.

The institution was a pitiful sight: one-story brick building with broken windows and sagging door. Moreover, someone was lying down near, drunk as a skunk. Rested. Why so drunk? This life I guess. I do not like the city. Stepping over the body, I walked into the room. Nose got (it even got through the cleansing filter of the helmet) hit by a bad smell diluted vigorous beer and tobacco own cooking. I even swayed. Wow, the last time I came here it was easier.

The place was noisy and crowded. Immediately you could see a few mercenaries, pirates, spies and all other brute force to conquer a small town like this, unless you have the money to implement such plans: mercenaries are always pricey.

"Take a look who came." - _came from the depths of the room a cheery and familiar voice. I did not have time to step and two-step, how to meet me popped a two-meter mountain of muscle, while brushing aside the only waiter. Look guys. A height of 2 meters and 5 centimeter, God knows how many kilos of pure muscle weight, 49 years old, cropped in Army black, touched with gray hair and mustache like Cossack (his pride, by the way, you want to go to the bad life - say something insulting about his mustache), and amazingly clear blue eyes ._

"Yo. I am in a hurry. We have a case. Find a quiet place." - _glancing nervously around, I snapped at him._

For what I respect Uncle, unlike other mercenaries, his brain works really fast: joy from his face was blown like the wind, a more serious face emerged, and he told me to wait at the entrance. I went out and stumbled on the body, cursed, the body in response mumbled something unpleasant. Just half a minute Uncle came, holding a shotgun. With a short nod, he led me through the side streets of the New Town. We walked a short time, between alleys to throw surveillance off of us (if it existed), we went to an abandoned office of some ruined clan.

"It's safe here. Anyway, I will notice if someone will come inside." - _going inside, said Uncle and leaned against the wall of scribbled obscenities._

"In general, as follows: it is necessary to find one abandoned base and blow it up. The pay is 150,000 coins. Action..."

"Stop, stop." - Uncle lifted conciliatory hands – "You know me, I know you. I do not work blindly, under any circumstances. Even as an old friend. Briefly outline the situation to me, I will understand." – _The voice sounded somehow comforting. What Naruto, nerves acting up? Probably old age. I sighed and succinctly described the situation as much as possible._

The mercenary whistled.

"Want to play a knight Naruto? 150 pieces each, you say? And equipment will be provided?" - Uncle smiled – "Well, Im with you. Always wanted to try a white knight armor and fight the evil of the world." – _The guy laughed heartily. I looked at the entrance: for anyone. Only tumbleweed field Windswept flashed and disappeared immediately._

"Do you know where can Speedy, Doc, Owl or Elephant be?" - _With these words the guy stopped laughing at once tarnished. I immediately understood._

"Who? When? How?" – _The three questions about death._

"Speedy died. Shot in a duel. Ran into a master. Sorry, the man was good." - Uncle sighed – "Doc kind of got hired to help someone to hold the village from Stiches. It is a long time, we don't have that luxury. Elephant is in the hospital: The hunt for the Duke, two days ago thundered. In serious condition, but he's strong, he will endure. Owl is in the city. Where she's climbing, I do not know, but I know where her parents live. They should know." _- I suppressed nodded - Speedy... Another stalker went into eternal wasteland. Easy road to you, brother._

"We will remember him later. Come on, think only about the goals, its better." - _Uncle encourages guys easily, can't say anything about that._

Walking through the alleys we went to the so -called sleeping area. It was more cleaner here, and debris on the order of magnitude smaller. And the silence. Here I am at least more or less calm. Or any sound I hear rustling. So here I am mysterious furry beast with a Screw Crock. Lost in thought, I did not notice that Uncle brought me to some apartment on the third floor of a five-story building.

"Take off your helmet and hide your rifle somewhere. People are old and peaceful. No need to frighten them with weapons." - _Well, about the helmet he is right, of course, I sometimes do not even notice I was wearing a helmet or not. And what about the psychically injuring civilians... I do not know - I do not know! If corsairs scare little naughty children, then naughty corsairs are scared by Uncle._

A knock from the guy and the door almost opened immediately. At the entrance stood a man about fifty years old and held a bat in his right hand.

"What do you want?" - _Brevity is the soul of talent, do you not think so?_

"Is your daughter home? Eliza?" – _Owl's name was Eliza? That's interesting._

"It depends on who you are." - _Apparently the girl's father raised his bat._

"An old friend" - _a look at the guys was heavy, so heavy that the man immediately split. Wimp. I would at least resisted for 10 seconds._

"At the power plant right now. Works there." - Not weathering the look Owl's father looked away. –"Go away." - _Right in front of the door slammed. Judging by the sound, there were closed to all castles and something heavy barricaded it._

"Do you see what my powers of persuasion dose? Just ask politely enough" - _Cheerfully told me the mercenary, when we came out of the house. I said nothing. Better to leave my opinions to myself._

Closer to the plant we stopped by the security. Nothing special, check whose coming. Little did. Even in this town sometimes, something explodes. Very often no accident.

When we almost came to the power plant, we heard an angry female voice. Uncle raised an eyebrow and looked at me. Looks like we found the Owl. Without thinking, we went to the sound.

"Screw you, you do not know a damn thing. How did you get to this point? You even know that I'm classy specialist?" - _Coming to the main gate of the building, we saw a rather nice, short and besides fragile mulatto women is talking slack to big, healthy oaf in a new jacket._

"I repeat once again, you're fired. You are incompetent. Security, see to this." - _As if by magic, behind the girl appeared two guards of law and started taking her away from the plant while she was showing of her rather large dictionary._

"Hey, let the girl go. She is with us." - _I called the cops (and who acted as guards). Exchanged glances, the cops let her go and silently left. I understood them. The reason was not in us, it took an effort to stay cool when you're are getting bitten, cursed, scratched and God knows what ells._

"Hey, Owl. We are glad to see you."

"Hi, and I'm not. What do you have?" – _As always, with her manners._

"150,000 coins for the service class spices." - _I winked at her_.

"How much? I agree! What do we need to do? Explode, break, fix it or something?" - _The girl looked at us with big yellow eyes (I did not say that she had been abnormal? Simply put, she is a mutant. Sees better in the dark than any night equipment)._

"You'll get the details. Let's go." - _Uncle, as always, says everything on case. I'd would not have been able to do better._

On the way to Murmur I reviewed everything better. She has not changed since our first meeting. All the same meter sixty. All the same beautiful, slim, with agate - black straight long hair. But all these advantages crosses two major minus. First - it's a terrible temper and simply monstrous stock of swear words. Second - she is a mutant. There is nothing special, except that sees in the dark, but people are way warded, they do not care, and they need to find something terrible. So it is easier, because deep down they realize that they themselves are monsters. This is the world.

"But still, what kind of work. I have never hear let alone see that kind of money my whole life. I understand that we risk our own neck, like then? When we all got engaged with that bastard?"

"More. Much more." - I shook my head. I cannot tell everything, if Uncle decides to do his own thing then same goes for Owl that's why I can't trust them fully. But it would be unfair not to tell anything. We all took care of Owl after the first meeting. Me, Lively, Uncle, Doc, Elephant, Anarchist (incidentally, the only corsair, who has earned my respect, they are not all arrogant and dishonest), Colonel, Agate, Heretic... All those who survived then during our first meeting.

Slightly distorting my story (Uncle already raised eyebrows in surprise, but quickly realized what was wrong and relieved) by removing the nuclear weapons away from sin, and citing that he did not really know what was the matter, they say, Murmur hired, he knows better, tell that we went up to the old man's lair. On the walls of the city were lit spotlights behind us. Yeah, it means time after midnight: only this time lit spotlights, cops patrolling the walls that had not a single creature not snuck into the city.

Murmur greeted us happily. Even more fortunately met by the turret, a gift that it was not loaded. Seeing no one there, just made sure that we weren't followed, Murmur took us deep into his "kennel". Going to what was rack with tools, Uncle was asked to help with moving it. When they moved it, to our eyes opened up a passage going under 30 degrees down. Heh, the old man never wasted time: thoroughly entrenched himself.

"Well, what's up? Never saw an underground passage?" _- Murmur took a powerful torch, and we went down. The room turned out quite small. There were all sorts of shelving's, covered with green cloths. And the dust! Here there was so much dust that probably from the war nobody cleaned._

"Use anything you like." – _The old man effectively dropped the rag from the first shelves, and to us opened a mercenary paradise. Guns! Lots of weapons. No, not so much. This room is just the eyeballs was littered with weapons. And not only them. Owl kicked off with one of the long cloth racks, and we saw the mannequins with armor. Behind me I heard a victorious roar of Uncle._

"A Lancer! Grandfather, you have a Lancer! Somebody help me push myself in this work of art."

"Well, this is a Lancer... very old and patched in some places, but yes, it's Lancer." - _The old man went to help. As for me - I took the bag and threw back a few grenades and explosives from a drawer near the entrance, which nobody noticed._

"And where are the bullets?" - _Typing enough explosives, I shouted to the old man._

"Look on the third shelf from the left. Should be there."

That's as much fun as the kids would have, half an hour later, we cleaned out the old man. I even was a little ashamed, but there is agreement and a deal. Uncle dressed in his Lancer, as well as traded on the shotgun for the machine gun Kalashnikov. With him he still took some suspiciously large backpacks. As it later turned out, there lay the cartridges. Very much. Although... his right. Owl in its queue was fitted more easily: a weapon she took was a lap pistol ZX- 420 (not very long range, even for a pistol, but saves battery a lot when fired), and the armor was taken from lightweights light. Look at us, for some reason, she explained:

"I cannot stand heavy armor. It constrains movement." - _Hmm... Never thought that my Desert hinders movements. Well, maybe a little bit, but for years I used it and it's like a second skin to me._

Murmur critically looked at us and muttered something under his breath and motioned back to the top.

As we climbed out, the old man on all the tables that were in the main room, and laid the cards.

"Come here, I need to show you something." - waiting until I come, the old man began to show on the map dotted with marks. – "Here we are" - finger went to the southeast – "and here is where our goal is." _- I whistled. Base was behind two barriers which were densely populated. This sucks. But in general really, with me, anyway it's possible._

"And what's the area here? Desert?" - _Came Uncles voice from the back. I nodded to him._

"Oh darn, we are going to be sore after this." – _Wiping a cloth over glass of his helmet, he sighed._

"We will not. From tomorrow the rainy season begins. The desert will become one continuous mud puddle. We won't be able to soak up the sun." - _I told him. Uncle grunted and went to study his new PCD._

"In general, I will lead the team, do not worry. Is the map accurate?" - _I began to fold it. The old man nodded, then added:_

"Be careful there. Someone is interested in this database. Remember this." - Then a little louder for Uncle – "Take the bags at the entrance, there is food and all sorts of rubbish spades there, so who knows."

"I remember. That's done. Group, we move out." - _With these words, we started moving back in to the desert._


End file.
